


you don't have to have it all together (to have it all now)

by blondsak, seekrest



Series: Whumptober 2020 [7]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Matt Murdock, BAMF Michelle Jones, Blood and Injury, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Lawyer Michelle Jones, Light Angst, Matt is bad at feelings but he tries his best, Protective Matt Murdock, canon nudged to the left, defenestrating canon as per usual, feelings reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:00:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27257575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blondsak/pseuds/blondsak, https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekrest/pseuds/seekrest
Summary: “Michelle, you have to be point person on this, do you understand?” Matt says, voice as serious as she’s ever heard him, even in a courtroom. “Peter only has you and me right now, and he needsyoureyes, not mine. So tell me right now—can I count on you?”Michelle opens her mouth and closes it again. “I—yes but I’ve, I’ve never–”“No buts or nevers. Just yes or no—can I count on you?” Matt interjects, then with more emphasis, “CanPetercount on you?”
Relationships: Matt Murdock & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones & Matt Murdock, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Series: Whumptober 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1954963
Comments: 51
Kudos: 149





	you don't have to have it all together (to have it all now)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [neptuneslight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/neptuneslight/gifts).



> Happy birthday neptuneslight! We hope you had a lovely day!
> 
> Prompt: Accidents

Michelle doesn’t allow herself to waste even a second processing.

As soon as the phone call ends she races into the break room and starts haphazardly tossing the couch cushions into a corner. She yanks out the pull-out bed and lays it flat before turning to the closet and flinging it open, taking out the tarp she knows Matt keeps there for situations just like this one. It’s stained to hell but more or less clean, and without looking too close at the old bloodstains, she stretches it over the mattress, tucking in the corners and sides. 

Next she grabs the hefty first aid kit, pulling it down off the high shelf and placing it on the extra desk Matt and Foggy kept back here for storage—not bothering to pick up the old case files that fall to the floor in a flurry of papers as she nudges piles out of the way to make room for the large metal box. 

She opens it up, glancing at all the contents before taking out everything she thinks they’re likely to need. She places the few suture instruments on the kit’s tray, carrying them into the bathroom and scrubbing at them with dish soap. She knows it’s likely Foggy probably took care of that the last time Matt showed up here injured but she can’t be certain, and she can only assume that Peter might—that he’ll need them when–

Michelle shakes her head, forcing herself to push those thoughts away. She can’t afford to lose her cool, not now, not yet.

Slightly calmer now that things are mostly ready, she brings the tray back into the break room and carefully sets it down next to the open kit.

She looks around the room, mentally cataloguing everything. The bed was ready, the kit was prepared—was there anything else? She can’t think of anything save one, heading into the main office area and unlocking the window latch, propping it open. It might only save them a few seconds but it might very well be a few seconds Peter couldn’t afford to lose.

Only then does she give herself a moment to breathe, sitting down at her desk again. There’s no sound but the ticking of the clock on the wall, and Michelle’s eyes flit between her shaking hands in her lap and the open window, almost as if to a beat. Eventually she picks up her phone to check the time, and is surprised to see it’s only been fourteen minutes since her phone first rang, finding herself feeling like it had been far longer.

It’s only been fourteen minutes. But Michelle can only hope that it’s not already too late.

* * *

“Need a refill?”

Michelle smiles, pushing some hair behind her ear as she looks up at Matt. He’s coming in from the kitchen, a steaming cup of hot tea already in his hand as he gently sets it down next to her. 

Michelle waits till he’s set it down before grabbing it, taking a sip and humming her appreciation for the cup as Matt moves to sit back down in his own chair. 

“That’s amazing. What blend is this?” 

“Foggy’s,” Matt says, as if that’s explanation enough. Michelle just shakes her head, setting the cup back down as Matt continues, “He swears it’s a secret but he’d probably tell you if you asked.”

“Sounds like Foggy,” Michelle mutters to herself, knowing Matt would’ve heard her just as easily as if she’d said it clearly anyway. 

Matt doesn’t reply, already focused back on the work that’s set out before them. Michelle doesn’t mind, it’s part of the reason why she likes this job so much. From the beginning he and Foggy were both so clearly different than the stuffy, hot shot corporate lawyers that used to swarm around law school looking for clerks - the two of them truly committed more to unraveling systemic crime than helping white-collar jokers get away with it. 

Matt was quiet, purposeful - always quick with a joke. Michelle liked him from the moment she met him. 

Knowing what she does about his  _ after _ hours job, she likes him even more.

She squints at her laptop in front of her, rubbing her temple as she tries to clear her mind and focus on the case at hand. It was one of dozens on their docket, a reminder to herself that for as easy it was to get wrapped up in dates and times and locations - these were all real people with real problems that needed to be solved. 

Yet before she has the chance to recenter herself, her phone buzzes - Matt’s head snapping up just as she glances to it and sees Peter’s name flash across the screen. 

“Foggy?” Matt asks, only for Michelle to shake her head as she smiles and says, “No, the other one.”

Matt laughs to himself, Michelle answering the phone and bringing it to her ear as she says, “Miss me already?”

What she expects is some smartass joke, imagining Peter rolling his eyes and bantering with her back and forth in that easy way that they usually do, even if that hadn’t been quite the case lately. 

What she gets instead is something that makes her stomach drop, fingers tensing as Peter rasps out, “MJ?”

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Michelle asks, seeing Matt freeze out of the corner of her eye before he sits up straighter. 

“I’m--” Peter coughs, Michelle starting to feel the panic in her gut grow at how  _ wet _ it sounds as he continues, “Not gonna lie, not doing so hot.”

He coughs again, Michelle taking a deep breath before saying, “Where are you? What happened?” 

Matt’s already standing, Michelle putting the phone on speaker for her own benefit even if she knows Matt would’ve been easily able to pick up Peter’s voice without it as he moves closer to her. 

“Had a little disagreement with-- ah, with a knife,” Peter laughs, his voice sounding a little breathless and far too strained for how casual he’s trying to be as he adds, “Knife won.”

“Where are you, Pete?” Matt asks, his voice steady and straight to the point.

“Oh hey Matt, what’s up? Though you left--” Whatever Peter tries to say gets lost again in a cough that’s starting to worry Michelle even more, bringing the phone back to her ear as she says forcefully, “Where. Are. You?” 

Peter starts to wheeze, Michelle looking to Matt’s face and seeing the worry in his expression as he frowns.

Not a second later, his features change as if a lightbulb had flickered on in his head as he says, “Keep him on the line.” 

Michelle puts her attention back to Peter as Matt grabs his cane and moves to another part of the office - no doubt rushing to get ready and go wherever the hell Peter is. From the sound of it, there’s no time to waste and it’s not as if Matt needs to be standing right next to them while she tries to get a location out of him. 

If pushed, Michelle knows by now from a year of working with him that Matt could eventually pinpoint Peter out of the city from his hearing alone. But to do so would waste time, time that—if the wheezing that’s coming from the other end of the line is any indication—Peter doesn’t have. 

“Peter, please—where are you?”

“...MJ?”

“Yeah, Pete. I’m here,” Michelle replies, unable to hide the fear from her voice, fingers absentmindedly tapping against the desk. “Matt’s coming but he needs to know where to go. Can you tell me where you are?” 

“Bellisario’s-- right by,” he coughs, only to go quiet.

_ “Peter?  _ Peter–”

“B-Bellisario’s and n-ninth---” he wheezes again, the panic that Michelle is so desperately trying to keep at bay coming back in full force as she swallows. 

“Matt’ll be right there but listen, Pete. You gotta stay awake for me, okay?”

“Yeah,” Peter rasps out, as Michelle continues, “What happened? I thought you were going to meet May?” 

“I was--” Peter hisses, Michelle hearing some jostling on the other end of the line - wondering if Peter was stupid enough to try and move around and wincing inwardly from  _ knowing _ that he would be - “I was on my way but then I heard… heard…”

Peter trails off just as Matt comes back into the main office, decked out in the Daredevil costume. She’s known Matt was Daredevil for a little over six months, not much longer than she’s known that Peter is Spider-Man, yet it still completely throws her to see him in the vigilante’s outfit. 

Matt the Lawyer and Matt the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen are different in many ways, but the sternness in his voice is one she recognizes anywhere as he says, “Tell him I’m on my way. Keep him awake.”

Matt’s gone before Michelle even has time to answer, only for the dread to billow out in her gut again as Peter continues to wheeze. 

“MJ, I gotta-- I gotta tell you something.”

“What is it?” she asks, trying and failing to calm down as her fingers continue to absentmindedly tap against the desk. 

“I…” Peter begins only to pause, the heavy breathing on the other line causing her stomach to do flip flops for how haggard and wet it sounds. “I’m s-sorry I di’n’t tell you ‘fore, I should’ve… I wanted… I’m sorry…”

“Pete? Peter, are you there?”

“MJ…” Peter repeats, voice barely above a whisper, only for Michelle to wince when she hears him coughing again - the sound so violent that it wrenches up her insides. “I want… I n’d you t’know… MJ…”

Her stomach drops when the phone seemingly clatters on the other line.

“Peter? Peter!?” 

Michelle keeps calling his name. 

Peter doesn’t respond. 

* * *

Michelle is pulled back to the present when she hears someone climb over the fire escape railing, grunting and panting like they’d just finished running a marathon. She wastes no time rushing over, lifting the window pane wide just as Matt comes into view. Over his shoulder is Spider-Man—Peter. He’s completely limp, arms dangling down past his masked head, gloved fingers nearly touching the office floor.

Michelle had seen him injured before—knows neither of them will ever forget the night she found out the truth—but not like this. Here, unconscious in a fireman’s carry, he looks so unprotected, so  _ vulnerable.  _ It’s unnerving, and nothing like the sides of Peter that Michelle had thus far come to know. 

It occurs to her that perhaps this was what Peter was thinking about during their argument weeks before, when he’d told her that he didn’t want to get her any more involved in his other life than she absolutely had to be. That it would have been better if she had never found out who he really was. 

She’d been pretty pissed then, even if she’d done her best to let it go at the time, and since—not entirely succeeding if the lingering awkwardness between them was any indication. But now, trailing worriedly behind Matt as he carries Peter into the break room and lays him across the tarp—she thinks she might finally understand where Peter was coming from—what he’d been trying to explain.

It doesn’t change the fact that she still believes he was underestimating her, though.

“Help me with his suit,” Matt grunts out, Michelle once again forcing herself to focus on the present. She pulls off Peter’s mask while Matt presses the bloodstained Spider-Man emblem, the suit immediately loosening around Peter’s body. From there they each take an arm, pulling off the thin but strong material. 

Michelle can’t help gasping when the wound is revealed. It’s an ugly, gaping puncture just below his left clavicle, inches above his heart. It’s still bleeding profusely, and Michelle bites her lip in an effort to force back the gasp that tears up her throat at the sight.

She’d already known it was bad, had thought she was prepared, but seeing it now, seeing Peter bleeding, maybe even  _ dying– _

Peter groans at the same time a hand lands on her shoulder, startling her.

“Michelle, you have to be point person on this, do you understand?” Matt says, voice as serious as she’s ever heard him, even in a courtroom. “Peter only has you and me right now, and he needs  _ your _ eyes, not mine. So tell me right now—can I count on you?”

Michelle opens her mouth and closes it again. “I—yes but I’ve, I’ve never–”

“No buts or nevers. Just yes or no—can I count on you?” Matt interjects, then with more emphasis, “Can  _ Peter _ count on you?” 

Michelle takes a slow, steadying breath, closing her eyes and counting to five in her head before opening them again. 

“Yes,” she finally replies, then grabbing gauze off the desk, forcefully places it into Matt’s hand. “Press down hard on his left shoulder, just below the clavicle. He’s been stabbed. The wound will need to be cleaned and stitched.”

Matt doesn’t hesitate, letting go of her shoulder as Michelle climbs onto the bed. Reaching over Peter she grabs the necessary supplies from the desk only to bat Matt’s hands away from the injury so she can clean the wound.

“There’s a tray of suture instruments on the left corner of the desk. Grab that for me and place it on the bed,” she orders as she works. As soon as she’s certain she has the wound as clean as it’s going to be she sets to getting the needle and thread ready.

Michelle isn’t sure she’s ever concentrated as hard as she does over the next few minutes, carefully stitching up Peter’s wound.

“T’ny,” Peter mumbles at one point, Matt placing a hand on his brow in an effort to soothe and whispering something in Peter’s ear that Michelle doesn’t catch. It must do the trick because Peter settles down once more, falling back into whatever place he had gone to when he passed out on Michelle over the phone.

As much as she hates seeing him so still and lifeless, she’s grateful he’s not awake for this, not least because she doesn't think she’d be able to focus on her task if he was gazing up at her with eyes full of pain—all while knowing she was part of the cause.

Once the last stitch is threaded, she wipes around the closed wound with a wet—and presumably clean—cloth Matt had procured from somewhere, cleaning away the last of the blood before pressing down a layer of clean gauze, Matt handing her pieces of medical tape to keep it firmly in place.

“Good job, Michelle,” Matt says as soon as it’s done, placing his hand on her shoulder again but this time just to grip it softly. Despite the grimness of the situation Michelle feels all the tension leave her at the touch, placing her own hand on his forearm and squeezing once in response.

“Be right back—gonna go change,” Matt says as he pulls his hand back into his lap, getting up and disappearing into the bathroom.

As soon as the door shuts, Peter moans again. Michelle finds herself holding her breath as she watches his eyes slit open, gaze unfocused and darting about before landing on her.

“May?” 

He sounds so weak, and Michelle can’t help running her palm tenderly down the side of his face, leaning in a bit closer.

“Just me, Pete,” Michelle whispers, smiling softly. She catches the exact moment Peter recognizes her, his own lips turning up as he closes his eyes again.

“J’s you,” he mumbles but he doesn’t sound displeased. No, he sounds content and at peace—almost like he feels _ safe, _ knowing Michelle is nearby and watching over him. It’s a sentiment she didn’t know she needed to hear from him after the awful night they’d both just had, until this very moment.

“I’m here, Pete,” she says soothingly as he falls back to sleep—real sleep, she thinks, rather than unconsciousness. “I’m right here.”

  
  


* * *

Michelle wrings her hands together, staring at Peter on the pull-out beside her. She hasn’t moved since he drifted off.

She hears Matt before she sees him, her eyes still steadily trained on Peter as Matt sits back down—having quickly showered as well as changed—and quietly whispers, “You okay?”

Michelle shakes her head, only to correct herself as she whispers back, “Not really.”

Matt hums in response, Michelle glancing over at him - seeing plainly the exhaustion written all over his face as he sighs. 

“Yeah, I’d be surprised if you were.”

“Is it always like this?” she asks, surprising herself with how small and vulnerable the question sounds. But if Matt notices the difference in her demeanor, he doesn’t mention it - rubbing a hand over his face as he sighs again. 

“Would it make you feel better if I lied to you?” he asks, Michelle laughing despite herself as Matt gives her a small, tired smile. 

“No, it wouldn’t,” Michelle answers honestly, sensing from the expression on Matt’s face that he’s not surprised by her answer as he nods. 

“I didn’t think it would.” He pulls himself up straighter, rubbing his hands against his thighs before saying, “It’s not always like this. But it doesn’t get any easier.” He sighs again, expression dour when he adds, “Michelle, I hope you know that this… isn’t what I expected from you when I hired you. I never would have asked it of you either, if I’d had any other choice.”

“I know,” Michelle’s quick to say, realizing the track that Matt is going on, “I don’t mind.” 

Matt raises an eyebrow, Michelle quickly amending, “I don’t mind helping. With this. With him.” Michelle sneaks a glance back towards Peter who, while still pale, looks considerably better than he had when Matt all but dragged him in. 

Matt hums in acknowledgement, Michelle finding herself filling the silence unnecessarily as she says, “I mean this is weird, a hundred percent. This is  _ not _ normal and I’m honestly surprised Foggy is okay with all of this, all things considered.” 

Matt snickers as if Michelle’s said something tremendously funny, only for her to continue rambling, “I knew you two dealt with real shit, but it’s—it’s different. Seeing it up close.”

She looks back to Peter, reminding herself that for as bad as it had sounded earlier that it was okay  _ now _ as she says, “I’m honestly surprised he called me.”

“I’m not,” Matt says simply, Michelle turning to him in surprise. 

“Despite what you and Foggy seem to believe, I do in fact know some of what’s going on around here,” Matt says with a hint of humor of his voice, Michelle chewing the inside of her cheek in embarrassment—thinking of how often her and Foggy had conversations about how little Matt was involved in the daily office going-ons.

“And it’s clear to anyone with a pulse that there’s something going on between you two,” Matt continues, bringing his hands together as Michelle absorbs that information.

“We’re friends,” she says carefully.

Matt smirks. “Yeah. Just friends. Of course.”

The silence feels deafening now, Michelle trying to find a way to explain herself out of this but finding that she can’t - and more, that she doesn’t actually want to when Matt says, “Look, this isn’t exactly the kind of thing I have a lot of luck in but—“

His shoulders sag, head tilting in the way it always did when he was focusing - Michelle wondering who or what he was listening to only for Matt to right himself as he says, “I know Peter cares very much for you. And I think in turn, you care about him a lot more than you’re willing to admit.”

Michelle nervously chews the inside of her cheek some more, attention shifting back to Peter. 

Things had been more than a little awkward since their fight, for lack of a better term. Michelle didn’t like being told what to do anymore than Peter liked being confronted it seems. Yet for all the people he could’ve called tonight, of all the people he could’ve asked for help - he’d called  _ her _ , something stirring in her gut at that knowledge and the overwhelming question of what to do about it. 

Before she has the chance to say anything more, Peter stirs but doesn’t wake - Michelle sitting up straighter as Matt moves to stand.

“His heartbeat is stable and it sounds like the wound is stitching itself from the inside,” Matt says quietly, understanding dawning on her that that’s what Matt had been listening for. 

“You think you can take it from here?” he asks, Michelle looking over at him as she thinks. 

Not entirely, she didn’t. Michelle feels as if this is still completely out of her comfort zone - not just the image of Peter looking as if he was going to bleed out in their office but the realization that there really was something more between them. She doesn’t say that though, channeling all her inner strength as she replies instead with, “Yeah, I do. You better get back to work on that case. We have court tomorrow.” 

“That we do,” Matt says with a chuckle, only for Peter to stir again - mumbling something under his breath that Michelle doesn’t quite catch. 

“I’ll leave you to it,” Matt whispers as Peter stirs more restlessly, resting a hand on her shoulder for a final time before grabbing his cane and moving to give them some semblance of privacy—even if both of them are aware he’d be able to hear the conversation anyway. 

“MJ?” Peter mutters but it’s obvious he’s not awake, eyes fluttering underneath his eyelids. His finger twitches, Michelle taking a leap as she gently takes hold of it - her hands intertwining with his as she whispers, “I’m still here.”

“MJ,” Peter whispers again, sounding less like he had on the phone but more at peace - Michelle’s stomach doing flip flops for an entirely different reason as she gently squeezes his hand. 

Matt’s words rattle around her brain, the recognition that for as much as she’d been trying to lie to herself that he was right - there was something between the two of them, something that tonight’s events proved couldn’t be denied anymore. 

The world of superheroes was beyond her payscale - literally and figuratively. This was a lot to handle, more than she had ever signed up for - as a lawyer, as a person, as a friend. 

But then she looks back up at Peter, a warmth rushing through her as she smiles, gazing at his peaceful features.

She wasn’t naive. It wouldn’t be all smooth sailing—there’d be more nights like this, probably far too many of them. 

It was a lot to handle, sure.

But Michelle had never been one to back down, not in the classroom or the courtroom and certainly not here, at Peter’s side.

She’d just have to adjust, just like she had when she’d first started working at Nelson & Murdock, and again when she’d found out Matt was Daredevil, and  _ again _ when she’d discovered Peter was Spider-Man. 

Besides, with Peter also at  _ her  _ side for this one, she thinks maybe—just maybe—they’ll make it through okay. Better than okay, even.

“Still here, Pete,” she repeats softly, pushing his hair back from his eyes, letting herself truly relax for the first time since her phone rang. 

“And I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> We love it when people scream at us in the comments. Come hang out with blondsak on tumblr: [blondsak](https://blondsak.Tumblr.com)


End file.
